Bathtime
by Ruya Firtina
Summary: Sarah gets completely dunked in the Bog of Eternal Stench, and there is only one way to get rid of the stink. Okay, I lied before, but now it is really Complete!
1. Chapter 1

Standard Disclaimer Applies: Neither Sarah nor Jareth belong to me.

A/N: This is something that's been in my mind for a while, but only recently have I had the time to try and pursue it. I apologize for the first chapter being so short, but I'm not familiar with this side of the fanfiction. Writing is a fun challenge!

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When you walk into a room with a distinctive smell you will immediately recognize it as your nasal passageways get flooded with the new aroma. After about twenty minutes, however, you do not even notice the smell anymore, as your brain decides to just ignore the constant stimulus. Fishermen cease to notice the stink of their wares; Garlic-eaters have to have someone else comment on their breath.

To Sarah's dismay however, the smell she was experiencing was exactly as strong as it was two days ago, and it was no less repulsive. True, she had gotten over her natural reaction to gag, but there was simply no getting over it. The worst part was that she could not simply get away from the source-the reek was emanating from her.

It was a Tuesday, and Sarah should have been at work, bored out of her mind preparing middle school students for state-administered standardized tests. She felt that she could not even call what she did teaching really. Even still, she would prefer it to what she was currently doing, which was scrubbing her skin raw with baking soda while sitting in the bath tub in her small apartment. She had taken a total of six baths in the past two days, eaten six cloves of garlic and two onions (in a futile attempt to replace one odor with another), and used an entire bottle of perfume. And still the smell remained completely untempered, nauseating and putrescent.

Sarah slumped over in the bath tub and brought her hands to her face, letting herself be overcome with frustrated sobs. Hoggle had not been exaggerating when he had spoken those words so many years ago: "_If you so much as set a foot in the Bog of Stench, you'll smell bad for the rest of your life. It'll never wash off_."

And Sarah had not just had her foot slip in. She had fallen in entirely.


	2. Chapter 2

**Standard disclaimer: Jim Henson owns the Labyrinth, the Bog of Eternal Stench, and certain Goblin Kings. Not I.**

**A/N: Thank you for the initial reviews! Your feedback encouraged me to write more. **

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It had all started two days ago, on a beautiful Sunday afternoon. Or at least, it would have been beautiful if Sarah had been anywhere else in the Labyrinth. Currently she was wandering around the bog with Sir Didymus close on her heels, on the hunt for orange nirnroots for the Junk Lady.

"My Lady!" the little fox knight exclaimed excitedly. "Methinks I see another patch beyond yonder fallen tree!" He scampered forward gleefully.

Sarah smiled behind the rag she had tied over her nose and mouth. It was soaked through with lemon juice in an attempt to drown out the horrible stink of the surrounding mire. It helped a little bit. She hefted the sack she carried over one shoulder—It was half full of the glowing orange roots, unique to the Land of Stench. They only grew right at the edge of the water…if you could call it that. Far more viscous—more like a stew, a stew of disgusting, rotten brown and grey unmentionables. The path squelched beneath her boots, and Sarah batted a fat, hovering insect away.

Honestly, why she had agreed to this task was beyond her. Ever since moving to the DC area she had taken to visiting the Underground every weekend, ever since she had learned of a portal under a bridge in one of the city parks. She found herself helping out many of her friends with their respective endeavors: helping Hoggle clear down an insidious vine that had spread across part of the Labyrinth's walls, helping Ludo host his annual tea party for his 'rock friends,' organizing a volleyball tournament for the Fireys. She wondered what her students would think if they knew what their boring teacher really did with her free time. She had planned to visit with Sir Didymus this weekend, but he was so incomprehensible with excitement about this 'quest' that she had no idea what she was getting herself into until the Junk Lady explained again what they were to do. Apparently these roots were an ingredient for some sort of potion that she was working on, and she had appealed to Sir Didymus to gather them for her.

Sarah grumbled something under her breath about how the Junk Lady should have just gathered them herself, but she had to grin at Sir Didymus. He looked like he was having the time of his life, digging with his front paws to unearth the glowing roots beneath the spiky-topped plants. Sarah got to work pulling the plants out by their tops and stuffing them into the swiftly filling pack. She had both her feet braced around an extraordinarily large root, gripping the main stem of the plant and was pulling it with all of her might out of the ground. _Tricky bugger—this one has a lot of side roots._ She heaved harder.

"Well, well. What do we have here?" drawled a voice that belonged to someone that Sarah had managed to avoid seeing for the past nine years. She looked up from her labors in shock and dismay. There was the Goblin King, in full regal attire, leaning casually against a tree.

She barely had time to register him however before the blasted root relinquished its hold on the earth with a popping noise. And without any resistance now holding her forward, her feet slipped out from under her in the squelchy muck underfoot. She fell backwards as if in slow motion. She could have sworn she saw the king's eyes widen in horror before her head dunked below the brown sludge.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Labyrinth or any of its inhabitants. I don't even own nirnroots-except for the orange variety.**

**A/N: Lol! Frostfyre picked up on my weakness for all things Skyrim.**

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Sarah floundered helplessly in the thick sludge for a few moments before finding her feet and being able to stand up, muck running off of her in rivulets. Sputtering furiously, she tore off the sodden bandanna covering her mouth and threw it aside. She nearly lost her balance again at the sudden motion, due to her legs being so deeply stuck in the thick mud. The sad-looking nirnroot she still held in her hand was decidedly less orange than it had previously been and she cast it aside in disgust. Her head was spinning and her stomach felt like it was trying to jump up her throat. A stronger wave of nausea rolled over her and she threw up into the bog.

_Dear god, _Sarah thought to herself between heaves_, This is absolutely horrible_. The stink, the stench, the reek-the foul, fetid miasma. Words could not even begin to describe the smell of the Bog of Eternal Stench. It was utterly sickening and revolting, made her insides simply wish to curl up and die. She retched again.

When she was finished she weakly sloshed her way back to the shore, feeling utterly miserable. Jareth was continuing to stare at her with an almost comical expression of horror on his face. She looked away from him swiftly, feeling anger boiling under her skin that her antagonist should see her in such a state. This was all his fault. Everything! _Why does he even keep a Bog of Eternal Stench around?_ Her eyes narrowed. Sir Didymus danced uncertainly around her with periodic exclamations of "My Lady!"

She hefted the sack of roots over her shoulder. "Come on, Sir Didymus. We're leaving," she said tersely. He quieted nervously, glancing between her and his king. She trudged back up onto the path. As she was about to pass by Jareth he seemed recovered enough to take a step towards her. "Sarah—"

She swung around and fixed him a purely molten glare. "Don't," she snarled. The Goblin King actually took a step backwards. He could only watch as she squelched determinedly out of sight with a simpering little knight trying to keep pace behind.

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"What happened to you!" The Junk Lady burst out into rasping cackles at the sight of her setting down the bag inside her hut.

"Don't even ask," Sarah grumbled, pushing back her (ugh) slimy hair back from her face.

"You were just supposed to bring the roots with you, not the entire bog!"

"Look, you are really not helping at all." She started to leave.

"Good luck getting it all off!" called the Junk Lady mockingly behind her.

_I am never going to live this one down._

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The comically horrified expression on the faces of her fellow bus riders would have been hilarious that night if they hadn't all been directed at her. People actually got up from their seats and moved away as far away from her as possible. It would have been funny if she hadn't been so miserable. But really she was past the point of even caring what anybody else thought. She just wanted to go home and take a bath. She would have to throw all these clothes away, unfortunately. It was a shame—she had really liked those boots.


	4. Chapter 4

**__A/N: As per request I'm trying to make my chapters longer. Sorry there's no Jareth in this one. I promise he'll get plenty of lines in the next chapter.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sarah or the Labyrinth. **

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_At least I'm not known as the Junk Lady_, Sarah sneered to herself, then sighed. _Why can't I come up with these witty comebacks on the spot?_ Sarah pondered this bleakly to herself as she stomped her way to the local park. It was a three mile walk, but Sarah was not quite feeling cruel enough to subject other people to being in an enclosed space with her. _At least now I look clean at least. It's not immediately obvious that I am the one who reeks so badly. _

Walking on the sidewalk was bad enough though. She winced when a woman walked by with a stroller and the baby abruptly started wailing. About a mile from the park a man passed her by with a small dog. The animal whined, giving her a wide berth and hurrying along as fast as his tubby legs could take him.

_That's right, scram, you little mutt._ Sarah was not in a very charitable mood at all. She was in even less of a good mood when she realized that the ornamental hanging flowers outside of a restaurant were all wilting as she passed by. Her unhappiness and embarrassment fueled her to hurry on to the park.

She gave a sigh of relief once she reached the open spaces of the park. The bridge she sought was a small wooden affair hidden by a copse of oak trees. It crossed a stream that ran diagonally through one corner of the park. Sarah looked around carefully to make sure there was no one about before she scrambled down one of the banks and under the bridge. It was cool, dark, and mossy underneath, and yes, there was the hole into the rocky bank of the stream, hidden by brambles. Sarah plucked her flashlight out of her back pocket and flicked it on, holding it in one hand. She got down on her hands and knees and proceeded to crawl through the passageway. It took about twenty minutes of crawling through the cool stone tunnel steadily downwards before she would reach her destination.

_It's a good thing that I'm not scared of tight spaces_, she thought to herself. Of course, the first time she had attempted this passage she had been _terrified_. Only the little goblin butt she had glimpsed dashing around the corners ahead of her had provided sufficient motivation to continue.

_Right turn, left turn—then a drop._ Sarah clambered about ten feet down a rocky face before emerging in a larger cavern. She shut her flashlight off at this point, since there was always some light in this area. She had made it to a section of the Under-Labyrinth corridors. She made her way to a ladder along one of the walls of the cavern and started climbing carefully. For about ten minutes she climbed until she reached a wooden trap door which she pushed up and open. This was the part of the journey that was always uncertain. This trapdoor had never twice taken her to the same place in the Labyrinth. She usually came up not far from one of her friends, which was convenient, but sometimes she showed up in less convenient places. For example, once she had emerged from the top of an old stump in one of the forest regions of the great maze, straight into a cloud of biting fairies, some of which had gotten tangled in her hair. Fortunately Hoggle had been close enough to hear her hollering and had swiftly come to her rescue.

She braced the trapdoor on her head and looked around cautiously, only emerging to the level of her eyes. She appeared to be in some sort of cellar with stone walls, one of which seemed to be lined with large wooden casks. _Looks safe enough._ She hauled herself up and into the room.

Sarah looked around with disinterest before crossing to a stone staircase which led up to the only other exit of the room—a heavy wooden door. She ascended the stairs and paused before the solid door. _Blast. Where's the handle?_ She tried pushing. The door did not budge. She kicked at it.

"Hey!" cried a voice from the other side, muffled by the wood of the door. "Who goes there?"

"I'm Sarah," she called. "Who are you?"

"Door guardian of His Majesties Private Wine Cellar," came the reply in an important sounding voice.

Sarah looked back at the enormous casks speculatively. _I guess the Goblin King must be a big drinker._

"Nice to meet you. Can you open the door please?"

"I'm sorry—I am charged to allow no one to enter without the King's permission."

Sarah kept her patience. She had had to face this kind of conversation more times than she could count on both hands. "But I don't want to enter—I want to exit."

The voice hesitated. "Erm—my orders were to let no one enter. I've never encountered anyone wanting to get through from the other side that didn't already have permission to pass. Conceivably, my orders could be taken to mean not let anyone enter the other way either." The voice turned thoughtful towards the end.

Sarah sighed. "Enter what? The castle? The cellar is a part of the castle, so technically letting me pass is not the same thing as letting me enter the castle, since I am already inside. Besides," she added hurriedly. "You really should consider the meaning behind your orders. If I were forced to stay here longer I might have to tamper with some of His Majesty's stores, and I don't think he'd be very happy about that. Am I wrong?"

The door was silent for a while before grumbling, "Alright, fine. But I still don't like it…" The heavy door swung open into the corridor and Sarah was met with a cranky-looking brass face embedded in the wood.

"So you're the famous Champion of the Labyrinth, hm?" The door face sized her up with beady brass eyes. "I had pictured you as being taller. And I didn't think you would smell so badly," he sniffed.

Sarah glowered at the door before flashing a rude hand gesture at it and stalking determinedly down the stone hallway.

_Stupid doors._


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I don't the Labyrinth nor any of it's inhabitants. I humbly get my inspiration for this work from genius of Jim Henson and Brian Froud. This chapter in particular has a few references to Froud's awesome book The Goblins of the Labyrinth.**

**A/N: Mannn-this is a loooong chapter. I just didn't want it to end and I couldn't find a good spot without it being reaaalllly evil. It's still a little evil, but hey, I'll try to update soon. Writing Jareth/Sarah interaction is tricky. Here it is though, as promised! And as always your reviews are absolutely wonderful and give me the drive to update more quickly. Enjoy!**

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"Halt and all that!" The traditional goblin challenge was quite welcoming to Sarah after half an hour of wandering the castle's corridors fruitlessly, and Sarah readily complied. She did not have much experience navigating the castle, seeing as how she avoided its chief occupant at all costs.

Three goblins of middling height advanced on her up the corridor. _Rear protection,_ she noted to herself while glancing at the spiky armor covering their rumps as they stomped closer. _This must be part of his Majesty's elite guard._

"You authorized to be to be wandering this portion of the castle," he snuffled, his pig's snout twitching, "while smelling so Boggy?"

"Er…no?"

"Hmf—right then. Walk this way."

So it was with two goblins flanking her and one leading in front that Sarah was marched through the castle and swiftly past the throne room. It was filled with a vast assortment of goblins, chickens, and a few rodent-like creatures, but was blessedly empty of lounging monarchs. Several goblins stopped in their endeavors to watch wide-eyed as the party entered. Sarah heard them jabbering animatedly once they left the room through an archway, catching a few words such as "Queenie," "bogged," and "stinky."

The first thing that Sarah noticed about the new room where the goblin guards halted was that it was very dirty, even by Goblin standards. It was also empty…no wait! _Scratch that observation!_

Sitting in one corner was the mopiest looking little goblin that she had ever seen. As she approached him she detected that he was wreathed in a similar pungent odor to her own. _I can totally relate, _she thought to herself as she took in his dejected stance.

"Don't worry—King'll prolly take care of you soon," called one of the guard goblins sympathetically over his shoulder as they clomped out of the room.

Sarah was pondering the possible meaning of that statement when the little goblin nodded at her morosely. "So, what you do?" Sarah blinked. It was as if they were two criminals exchanging stories in prison.

"Er…nothing. I just happened to be at the Bog. The King showed up rather suddenly and I was so startled that I fell in," she admitted sheepishly. She sat down next to the goblin on the dirty stone floor, leaning up against the wall.

"It okay—King scary sometimes." He patted her arm understandingly. "He pretty scary three days ago." He shuddered in memory. "Came back all grumpy-like."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, but got much worse when he saw me'n'Bus."

"Bus?"

"Bus is chicken," explained the goblin. "Me and some others had put Bus on throne and were calling him Kingy. Just for joking though!" He hurriedly added.

"Ah, I guess that could be mistaken for being…um…treasonous I suppose."

"Ya, especially when Bus pooed all over everywhere."

Sarah snorted at the thought of Jareth coming back to discover his throne covered in chicken droppings. "But couldn't he have just 'magicked' it clean?"

He wrinkled his nose. "Chickenings—and chickening poos—not so easily magicked." Sarah filed that interesting bit of information away.

"What's your name?" she asked.

"Pooge."

"Oh, that's …nice. I'm Sarah."

"_Lady_ Sarah?" Pooge's eyes widened like saucers.

"How many Sarahs hang around the Labyrinth?" she joked.

"Probably not many," Pooge ceded seriously.

"So, Pooge, have you been in this room for the past three days then?"

"Nah." He screwed up his wrinkly little face in memory, tilting back his rounded helmet to scratch at the wildly bristly mane erupting from his skull. "First day I find my way from Bog, next day I get chased by Night-Troll into pond (probably was Night-Troll)…then third day I come back to castle and sits here! It's been terrible boring! No Dance Magic for me!" he whined, his pointy ears tilting downwards.

"And all goblins who get bogged eventually come to this room?" asked Sarah eagerly.

"Yeah," Pooge picked this nose thoughtfully. "But last time was Kulp and Gurdy. Something about knitting. That was a long time ago though."

"And they don't smell now do they? I know I saw Gurdy last weekend. He didn't smell like roses, but it was nothing _this _bad. Tell me, Pooge—How _do you get rid of the Stench?" _Sarah was gripping Pooge's dented pauldrons, a manic glint in her eye. The light at the end of the tunnel was in sight.

Pooge trembled slightly at the Lady's intensity. "Simple, Lady—just hang 'round long enough and Kingy gets tired of the smell. He does magic bath spell and stench go away."

"The King?" Sarah echoed in dismay. _Damn. Looks like not only do I have to actually face Jareth, but I have to ask him for help to._ Sarah wrinkled her nose in distaste. "What's the nature of this spell?"

"Well, erm—there's lots of bubbles, and um….a big tub. And soap! Yech—the soap doesn't taste good either." Pooge stuck out his tongue. "At least not smell like Bog afterwards though…and sometimes Kingy sing a song!"

"He washes you _by hand_?" Sarah felt a little weak. The Goblin King she knew would only stoop to doing such a thing unless it were the only available option…._meaning it was the only available option_. She abruptly dropped Pooge and covered her face in her hands. "My god—I'm going to spend the rest of my life with the Stench. My life is oooovvverr…."

"There, there, Sarah. I'm sure we can work something out—if you ask _politely_, that is."

Sarah groaned and peeked out from between her fingers. Yes, there was a king standing directly in front of her. And damned if he wasn't violating the Anti-Smirking Laws introduced by former and more benevolent rulers of the Labyrinth. Not that anyone paid attention to anything they had said anyways.

Pooge leapt to his feet. "Kingy!" he cried excitedly. "We is ready!" He glanced over at Sarah consideringly. "We may be needing bigger tub though."

Sarah got to her feet and brushed off her jeans, though there was not much she could do about their filthy state from her crawling through tunnels. "You go ahead, Pooge. I'm leaving—I've found out what I needed to find out." _Which is that I'm going to spend the rest of my life as a hermit_. She nodded shortly at Jareth before making to step around him again. "Your Majesty."

He sidestepped so that he was in front of her. She frowned and tried to go around him the other way. He cut her off again. "Goblin King…" she growled warningly.

His wolfish grin was way too confident for Sarah's liking. "Would it really be so terrible to let me do a simple cleansing spell on you? You can't expect me to believe that spending _the rest of your life_ smelling like the Bog is preferable to spending a little time with yours truly."

Sarah allowed herself to take him in: the wildly unruly blonde hair, the mismatched eyes that glimmered with something that made Sarah shiver, the pose that _exuded_ confidence. Yes, this man was too dangerous to let him work _any _sort of spell on her, especially when part of her mind was not helpfully supplying a picture of him shirtless, beckoning her towards a bathtub while holding a cake of soap. _Gah!_

With a surge of will Sarah banished the image from her mind—Jareth was already staring at her expectantly. "I'm sure I will find another way to get rid of it," she answered with fake confidence.

"Hmm." He shrugged, expressing how unlikely he found that event to be. Sarah's stomach chose that moment to rumble loudly, and Sarah was suddenly aware of how little she had eaten over the past three days. Smelling like the Bog did that to your appetite, but it was coming back full force, especially after her journey to come here. Adventuring was hungry work. She looked away in embarrassment.

"I'm being a bad host," he said gently. "Maybe you would like some lunch first? Surely you _must_ be hungry."

"Psh—right, like I'd be stupid enough to eat anything you gave me, especially after last time."

She glanced up at him and was surprised to find him regarding her with annoyance. "Come on, Sarah. I was running out of time and you know it. It was all I could think of to distract you at such short notice."

"Well, fat lot of good it did you. I still escaped, and I still made it in time."

"Yes, yes, yes," he sighed exasperatedly. "You outsmarted the evil Goblin King and managed to beat him at his own game. Well done. Now come have some lunch." He put a gloved hand to the back of her shoulder and started to steer her across the throne room. He flashed a look at Pooge that clearly ordered him to stay put. Sarah sputtered and pushed back.

"What! No! You'll drug me again!"

"Sarah, Sarah—I never use the same trick twice on a person. That's so …predictable." He sneered the last word. "Besides," he leaned a little closer and Sarah felt herself going a little dizzy from the nearness of his presence. Or maybe because she hadn't eaten anything today—yeah, that was it. "Why would I drug you, when it would be so much more satisfying if you gave in willingly?"

Sarah hurriedly took a step backwards then cursed herself for showing weakness in front of him.

"Er…I…just promise you won't try anything with the food." She couldn't believe she was saying this, but damnit, she was hungry!

"I, Jareth, swear it on the eternal Labyrinth that I won't work magic of anykind on your lunch _today_, and that I won't take advantage of you _in that manner_."

Ugh. Why did he have to make his little clarifications and restrictions so damn…suggestive? Bah! "Fine," she bit out and gestured for him to lead on. The smile he flashed her was disarming in its genuineness, but he lead her through a series of passages without another word.

* * *

Sarah smiled at the little female goblin that brought her a plate and a mug of herbal tea. She smiled back widely with a mouth full of craggy teeth before dropping into a bow-legged curtsy and skipping off. The aroma of warm spiced food battled with that of the Stench, but Sarah was too hungry for her mouth not to water in anticipation.

Jareth lounged in his chair at the other side of the worn wooden table watching in amusement as she dug in with relish. _Underground food wasn't bad._ She bit into one of the fried wedges of spiced tuber. She was familiar with them—it was the sort of thing that Hoggle usually fed her when she was over. Next she went for her piece of toast spread over with scrambled eggs. _At least there are some benefits of being overpopulated by chickens._

After a while Sarah became acutely and awkwardly aware of Jareth's eyes on her, intensely watching her eat. She played with a fried wedge on her plate nervously. "Aren't you going to eat too?"

Jareth shook his head. "I'm currently using a spell that prevents me from smelling anything. An unfortunate side effect is that it prevents me from tasting anything either."

Sarah again felt the heat of embarrassment creeping into her face and tersely bit out, "It's all your fault that I got into this mess, you know. If you hadn't startled me with your swooping in when I least expected it then I wouldn't have slipped!" Didn't the man know that swooping was bad?

"I know," he replied genially, his cheek resting in a gloved hand. "You should let me fix it for you."


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: The labyrinth and all of it's inhabitants belong to Jim Henson, not I. **

**A/N: Here's another short update!**

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Blargh! _He is insufferable! _She turned back to her food, picking at the remainder of her fries but no longer hungry.

"There…there has to be another way to get rid of it, isn't there?" Sarah questioned, nearly pleadingly, not daring to meet his eyes.

Jareth hesitated and Sarah glanced up hopefully. The inside of Jareth's brows were quirked upward in deep thought.

"There might be another way," he reluctantly admitted. "I know of a sorceress outside of my kingdom who is more…refined…with cleansing spells than I ever found need be. She's a bit…manipulative…when it comes to helping people though. She'd probably ask something of you first. Probably send you on some dangerous, hare-brained quest across half of the Underground before she'd even see you." Jareth frowned at the thought.

Sarah couldn't believe her ears—he was actually giving her a way out! He was willingly giving up some of his power in the situation. Like it or not, it did look like Jareth had finally gotten some power over her after all. And he gave her a choice (at least one other than being a hermit for the rest of her life). Sarah was internally stunned, but she tried to brush it off.

"Psh—like you are any different. You totally manipulate people into getting what you want."

"It's part of my charm, or so I'm told."

Sarah glared at him, but ignored him. "Well, she can't be worse than you are, at any rate."

"Your confidence in me is overwhelming. I'm so glad to have your trust," Jareth replied dryly. "And as for the sorceress? She might help you for a price…or then again, she might just turn you into an animal and shut you up in a crate. I might have heard that she was into that sort of thing. At any rate, she will no doubt turn the tables in her favor in some totally unwholesome, nefarious manner."

"And you, on the other hand, are the epitome of all that is wholesome and well meaning?"

"Sarah, I may be many, many things," he spread his gloved hands in a magnanimous gesture, leaning backwards in his wooden chair, still managing to look profoundly regal. "But I am a man, and to be completely honest, what I would get out of this exchange-should you choose me-would be more than enough of a reward for me."

Sarah's mouth was dry and her fingers curled around the edge of the table. "Just for clarification that would be…?"

"My lovely Sarah," he regarded her with a hooded, mismatched gaze. "The chance to see the Labyrinth's champion naked, of course."


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: The Labyrinth and it's inhabitants belong to Jim Henson, not I. I'm just having fun here. **

**A/N: Hey there friends! I'm sorry I haven't updated in a week, I really am, but I was dealing with the notorious Real Life for the past few days. I took a major admissions test that I was studying for for the past month. One of the Verbal Reasoning passages was about Labyrinths though, which I was super excited about! It was a major morale booster in the middle of the test, let me tell you that. Now, if only there was a passage on bicycling and another on turtles then I would have been set. Anyways, then I spent four days backpacking in the woods with my mom to relax. Contrary to popular belief, there is no internet or electricity there. Lol. Anyways, enjoy!**

Sarah blinked before heat infused her cheeks with embarrassment and discomfort. _Wanting to see me naked..._Honestly, that was the sort of thing she imagined one of her immature middle school students to say, not an immortal magical ruler! He should know better, shouldn't he? Furthermore, Sarah was unable to respond with her usual serious threats, as sending him to the guidance counselor's office or calling his parents were really not options. She wasn't even sure if he _had_ parents. She had to banish that line of thought though because there was a very amused Goblin King staring at her with great interest from across the table. He was watching her stumble for an appropriate retort to his inappropriate comment. She was sadly coming up short, yet again.

"Come now," he said after a minute, a smirk playing on his lips. "Don't tell me a beautiful woman such as yourself has never had a man confess his attraction to you? If not then my opinion of human men drops even lower."

Sarah reeled back internally. _Beautiful? Where was all this coming from? I'm covered in dirt from crawling through tunnels and I smell like...well, he does have that smell spell up, but still..._She managed to find her tongue however. "Most human men figure out somewhere around the age of thirteen that saying exactly what they are thinking is likely to get them into serious trouble." She rubbed at her temples. "Although I do appreciate your honesty, _Your Majesty_, you've unfortunately completely failed if you were trying to make me feel better about this whole thing."

Jareth shrugged. "I take a brief foray into the world of saying what I mean, and I am met with disapproval. I see that I should go back to my old standby of cryptic mysticism."

"You're saying that I have to choose between being uncomfortable and so frustrated that I want to scream?"

"Not at all. You could choose to be charmed and flattered, Precious."

"For the love of-! Jareth, I'm just not at all in the mood for your jokes. Not only do I have to live with this stink," she gestured sharply, indicating the prevailing miasma shrouding her. "But I am shunned by everyone Aboveground. I can't go into work like this! And when I come back here looking for help all I get is your teasing and mockery!"

Jareth's voice was sharp as he replied. "Are you asking for my pity or my help? Because it is help that I have been offering you. And I know that you have responsibilities in the world Above. They are what keep pulling you away from my kingdom so relentlessly, especially when you are needed here." He broke eye contact with her, looking to the side instead as if in disinterest.

Sarah regarded his profile in wonder. The Goblin King, admitting that she was important to him and his kingdom? He had always seemed like an aloof figure from the small tidbits she had heard of him over the years. Always at the periphery of the goings on off the Labyrinth, never seen directly in the middle of things, as she had imagined a king would be. She looked at this mysterious man before her: his arms crossed, his elaborately decorated eyebrows furrowed in thought, the straight sharp line of his nose cutting down towards his thin pursed lips. She realized that he must care more for his land than he seemed to.

"I just want to help my friends here," she said quietly after a moment. Jareth glanced back up at her. "And I would stay longer, if I could, but I have to support myself Above. I have to maintain my job, have money and stability in the hopes of one day...having a family." Jareth stared at her intensely, as if he were trying to look into her soul. Sarah squirmed in her seat a little under his gaze. Her inner voice sounded a bit like Hoggle as it chastised her. _Gah! What did you have to go and admit something like that to him for?_

Sarah took a deep breath and went on tentatively, "If you want to keep me helping your people and your Labyrinth, you'll help me help them by ensuring that I can keep helping. So I should let you help me, I suppose." Sarah offered a small smile and took a gulp from her mug. _Hm...tomato juice and...vodka?_ She took another hearty swig.

"Really? Are you sure?" The Goblin King's eyebrows were raised in disbelief.

"Don't ask me that, please." Sarah wrinkled her nose and took another swig.

Jareth laughed, but looked a little relieved. "I see that you have become familiar with Labyrinth logic during your time here. Nevertheless, I am glad that you have chosen to see reason. Are you ready to go now?" He unfolded his crossed arms and stood with enviable superhuman grace.

He came around the table and offered a gloved hand to Sarah. She hesitated a moment before taking it. The black leather was smooth and supple to the touch, and she felt the strength of his hand behind it as it closed around her hand. Sarah gulped at the sensation. "As ready as I will be, I think." She let herself be helped up from the chair.

Jareth gave her a nod before tugging at her hand to follow him. Sarah struggled with her thoughts as she complacently let herself be led by hand through the stone hallways of the castle. Jareth hurried onwards, not pausing as he pulled her through corridors, up the stairs, through more warm halls, past windows overlooking the sprawling Labyrinth. Picking at his path through the winding passages seemed effortless and second nature to him. Despite herself Sarah was impressed. Her sneakered feet climbed a stone staircase after his leather booted steps.

Every now and again he would glance back at her, and the warm grin he flashed at her before eagerly pressing on was disarming. As she was whisked down the hallway she tried to catch up to the significance of their conversation again: He admitted that he needed her here, and she had agreed to trust him enough to let him work his magic on her. _Though I am really doubting my sanity on that one. The man has already admitted that his motives are less than pure. Curse him though. Why does he have to smile at me like that? Just because someone has a nice smile doesn't mean that they are allowed to get away with perverted thoughts about me._ She had to fight herself hard to keep from smiling back at him, however.

**Ah. Another update. Feels good, man. Anyways, this story isn't really that planned out, but it'll probably be over in another two or three more chapters if the characters do what I think they will do. Your reviews really help shape the way the story is going, actually. I'm reading them carefully-they get my brain juice flowing around nicely.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, I say, nothing! Jim Henson owns it all, not me.**

**A/N: Ah! I couldn't help myself and wrote this next bit out last night. Enjoy! And don't worry-I foresee this staying T, even though the story is almost over. I have a few thoughts for a sequel in my mind actually, though it might be a little more serious than this though. I might try a higher rating with that one.**

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It was a couple of stories upwards in the castle before they stopped before a haevy dark wood door, framed with carved reliefs goblin faces peering out from amongst vines. Sarah estimated from the views she had chanced out of the windows they had passed and the spiraling flights of stairs that they were somewhere in one of the castle's towers.

Jareth squeezed Sarah's hand briefly, but when she glanced at him in questioning suspicion he simply pushed the door open with one gloved hand. The door opened silently on its hinges, though Sarah had a suspicion that it would not open so readiliy for just anyone. Jareth took two strides inside, pulling her along after him. Only when she had crossed the threshold did he relinquish his hold on her to close the door behind him, giving Sarah a moment to look around in curiousity.

The room they had entered had a very open feel to it, and was dominated by two pieces of furniture in the center of it. A heavy wooden desk and work bench stood at right angles to each other, both of them stacked with scrolls and books. Multicolored glass and crystal orbs of various sizes littered the workbench as well as a collection of twisted metal knick knacks. A large map lay partially unfurled across the desk. On one side of the room stood a large bookshelf stuffed with bound books and coiled scrolls. On the other side another large map was hung up. What looked like several darts were sticking out of different points on it. Beyond the desk two glass doors were open to the light and fresh air of a balcony overlooking the city and surrounding Labyrinth.

_Where are we? Doesn't look like a place Goblins frequent...seems much more personal. It couldn't be his...Oh no, it is._

For through an open doorway Sarah had spied a huge four poster bed decorated with a blue and gold coverlet. The covers were a little rumpled and what looked like a sock seemed to be laying across it. _He wouldn't seriously bring me to his personal chambers, would he?_ Sarah's nerves jangled feverishly at what was to come, mostly because she had no idea what was to come. Her throat suddenly felt dry and her palms started to sweat. She nervously wiped them off on her jeans. _Why had he brought me here into what is obviously his private domain? Oh no, he's walking towards that archway where the bed is._ She remained rooted to the ground where she was.

"Sarah?" Jareth glanced back at her. "Come on, this is where the bathroom is." His voice was low and soothing, but it only served to wind her up even further. _Ahh! It's a trap! It's a TRAP! He's luring you in deeper so he can keep you here, tie you up and have his wicked way with you! Ahh! Run!_

But it was in the forward direction that Sarah's feet moved. As she passed the desk she idly registered a half-eaten bunch of grapes lying a plate and some crumbs.

_Bad man! Bad room! Get out! _her mind screamed at her as she entered. She could feel the adrenaline pumping through her veins as she stepped more into the next room. Her legs were shaking as Jareth led her across a soft gold and blue rug towards another doorway.

Jareth eyed her carefully with his hand resting on the door. She couldn't help the restless flick of her eyes between his smirking face and the bed that stood commandingly to one side. She wiped her palms again on her pants. "Relax, little champion. I'm not going to bite you...probably."

Before Sarah could either reply or get the hell out of those rooms, however, he swung open the door to reveal a bathroom fit for...well, a king. The large stone tub in the center of the room looked to be made of green and white marble, and it was about three times larger than her tub at home. Gleaming brazen fixings emerged from the stone walls surrounding it. A high wondow allowed bright light to enter from above.

Jareth snapped his fingers and steaming water flowed out of one brass faucet and a foaming liquid bubbled out of another, slowly filling the vast tub. He turned towards Sarah expectantly.

"Um, is this where you normally wash the goblins?" Sarah asked nervously. She shifted from one foot to the other. _He's staring at me. Does he actually expect me to strip down right now, or what?_

"No," Jareth shook his head. "Normally I just bring a tub to the Timeout room and just wash them there. I figured that you might want a little more privacy than that. Also the normal tub wouldn't be big enough for you."

Sarah had a brief mental picture of herself in a tiny tub in the throne room, her knees clasped to her chest and all the goblins looking on in great interest. She was forced to admit that this was probably a little better. She shook the image out of her mind and was treated to the rare sight of a somewhat awkward Goblin King.

The rush of water had stopped and they both looked to see the bath steaming invitingly, a thick blanket of foamy, white bubbles covering its surface.

Jareth cleared his throat and said, his voice lower than usual, "I'll just go outside then until...until you're ready. Just call me in."

"Right," Sarah nodded, not even looking at him as he left and closed the door behind. She stared at the tub for probably a full minute before pulling her sweaty t-shirt up and over her head. The she stared at the tub another minute while standing in her jeans and pink bra, chewing at her lower lip. She finally sighed and pulled her shirt back on.

Sarah pushed the door open to the sight of Jareth laying supine on the bed, clutching a pillow to his face, Sarah laughed quietly at the unexpected picture. He pulled the pillow off of his face and onto his lap as he sat up onto the edge of the bed. His ashen hair hung down into his face before he pushed it back into place with a gloved hand. Sarah thought she caught a small frown when he registered that she was not, in fact, naked, but his face quickly returned to a carfeully blank look.

Sarah squared her shoulders. "I have decided that I am not going to use your help."

"That's...disappointing."

"I'm sure it is."

"You could have been completely Bog-free in less than one hour."

"Hmm."

"You could have gone back to your job tomorrow. The journey to the sorceress takes at least two days, and will take longer if she asks something of you first."

Sarah shrugged. She was starting to waver though, to double reconsider.

"She probably won't even help you at all, in all likelihood. Most probably she will try to do something nasty to you, and I would end up swooping in to rescue you from her clutches. You wouldn't enjoy that, would you?"

Sarah stared at him wordlessly. She finally spoke. "I'm just too chicken, I guess." She shrugged again.

A small mischievious smile danced on Jareth's lips. "Hmm...there's a thought that I hadn't considered before. I could turn you into a chicken to wash you. You probably wouldn't mind being naked if you were a chicken. Although," he said thoughtfully, "The cleansing magic would probably turn you back to your normal form again before the bath was over."

"Har, har. No thanks." Sarah rolled her eyes, before turning towards the door. She made it to the threshold of the bedroom before Jareth called to her from the side of the bed. "I know it must be getting pretty old for you, Precious. And I promise that I won't purposefully make you uncomfortable in there, all joking aside."

Sarah's eyes widened at the sincerity she heard in his voice, then sighed as the rest of her resolve melted away. She turned back to see him leaning back on the bed with his hands, his shirt open to reveal the pendant hanging down onto the smooth planes of his chest., his long legs relaxed over the edge of the bed to rest on the floor. "Less than an hour, you say?" she replied, defeatedly.

His response was a grin that managed to show off all of his white teeth.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I own neither the Labyrinth nor its inhabitants.**

**A/N: It took me a while to write this, longer than I had planned. I started writing the same day that I posted Chapter 8, and it has taken this long to finish it. This final chapter is pretty much fluffy smut, though all rated T. As I promised Person3162012, Jareth DOES NOT actually get to see her naked. There are lots of bubbles in the way. SO MANY BUBBLES. Enjoy.**

**Many thanks to my friends catnerdnick and brandished for the editing of this chapter. **

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"I wish that the Goblin King would get his butt in here right now!" Sarah called out with more bravado than she felt. She splashed nervously in the water, ducking down even lower in the bath water until the foamy bubbles covered the tops of her shoulders. The water was warm and pleasing to the touch, but it did nothing to relax the tension of her muscles. Instead she crouched, eyes narrowed like that of a cat as she stared at the door, her white-knuckled hands gripping the smooth, high side of the bath.

She heard the footfall of boots against stone approaching the door, watching guardedly as it opened, a black-sleeved arm coming into view. And then there was Jareth, standing before her in the bathroom, carrying in a squat three-legged stool in one hand. His eyes surveyed her folded pile of clothes in the corner of the room, and Sarah was made aware of the stark contrast of their relative states of dress—or in her case, undress. He wore all black, from his loose shirt to his tight trousers, from his gloves to his boots. He looked every inch the villain, while she was crouched inside the big tub with nothing but water and bubbles to hide behind. She ducked down further so that the thick white foam tickled at her chin.

Jareth cocked one arched eyebrow at her. "Invoking me by formal summoning is a little unnecessary when I'm right next door, you know? And you're being ridiculous—This is a bubble bath, not a ritual sacrifice. Or do you need me to bring you a rubber ducky?" He plunked down the stool next to the tub and seated himself with a huff, propping his elbows on his knees. For a long moment he just grinned at her.

Sarah eyed him distrustfully, unsettled by his glee. "And what are you doing just sitting there?"

"Just marveling to myself—even with all my villainous conniving and scheming, I don't think I could have pulled this off had I tried for _years_."

"Yeah, I pretty much fell right into your hands on this one, didn't I? You probably figured as soon as I slipped into the Bog that I would end up here sooner or later."

Jareth smirked. "I always figured you'd end up here eventually. Of course, I had imagined that it would be more due to my charms than matters of circumstance, but I will take what I can get."

Sarah's brow contorted in outrage. "You are such an—oh!" She cut off abruptly when Jareth started tugging off his gloves by the tips of the fingers. Sarah pulled closer to the edge of the tub to watch with undisguised curiousity. First one glove was tossed carelessly into the corner and soon the other went sailing after it. The hands Sarah was seeing for the first time were beautiful and pale, a tracing of blue veins visible just under the skin. Long fingers flexed.

"I've never seen you without your gloves before," Sarah said quietly.

Asmirk crept onto Jareth's face as he swiftly rolled each sleeve up his forearm and above his elbow. Sarah followed the tendons of his wrists, fascinated.

"This spell will work better if I have direct skin-to-skin contact. The magic flows easier without the gloves."

Sarah blushed, but pressed on. "So why do you wear the gloves in the first place?"

Jareth only gave his mysterious smile. He raised an arm and gently poked her on the nose. Her skin tingled where it was met by the pad of his finger. "That would be telling. Just relax."

Sarah frowned at his answer, or lack of it. "Psh—like _that's_ going to happen." But she scooted closer at his gesture.

Jareth surveyed her critically for a moment while Sarah simply stared back with an eyebrow raised in challenge. "I'm going to start with your hair." He picked up a small pitcher sitting to the side of the tub and reached in, scooping up some of the bathwater. "Close your eyes." She complied and he gently poured the warm, soapy water over her head. She opened up her eyes to the sight of him lathering up his hands with a bar of orange soap. However, as the suds foamed on his hands they turned from orange to a light sea green.

"What is that stuff?" Sarah asked suspiciously.

Jareth kept on working the bar of soap until his hands were coated in the green foam. He reached for her, green suds dripping from his fingers. "It's soap—but it has the property of being highly magically conductive. You can tell that magic is passing through it when it changes colors." Warm, soapy hands gathered the wet hair that hung around her neck, piling it onto her head and massaging it into her scalp. Sarah shivered at the sensation and closed her eyes as the soap dripped down her forehead. The tingling sensation of his hands on her scalp zipped down her spine, then back up again. Sarah's throat felt strangely tight.

His hands moved away briefly so he could soap them again. Sarah inhaled sharply when he returned to continue to lather her long, dark hair. Then it got worse.

Jareth started humming softly, low in his throat. Sarah cracked one eye open against the soap that trickled down her face. The Goblin King leaned over her, looking to be in almost a trance as his fingers continued kneading at her hair. His eyes were half-lidded and his thin lips were curved in the warmest, gentlest smile that Sarah had ever seen on him. As she watched his face she felt one hand move down to the base of her neck.

Jareth continued humming the low melody, as his hands worked over the back of her neck and then up her jaw, to trace the shells of her ears with soapy fingertips. Sarah was not entirely sure whether it was the sensation of his touch or the magic he used, but dancing shivers raced up and down her spine from her head to her curling toes. Under the water, her hands gripped firmly at her knees.

"Close your eyes again," Jareth commanded softly as he pulled back, strands of his unruly hair falling forward to hang partially over his face. Her eyes slid shut of their own accord. She started slightly as soapy hands cupped her cheeks, thumbs stroking gently from her nose across her cheekbone. Sarah's mouth definitely felt dry now as the warm, tingling pressure spread across her face. His thumbs moved up and together at her brow then spread apart along her eyebrows. The fingers of his right hand moved down her nose, brushed briefly over her lips, then lingered at her chin before he pulled away yet again.

Sarah took an unsteady breath then squinted an eye open carefully. "I should conjure a hand mirror. You have green soap suds all over your eyebrows," he told her with a self-satisfied look.

Sarah's mouth dropped open in indignation and she splashed bath water at him. _If he gets soapy water in his mouth while he is laughing then it serves him damn right!_ She scooped at the tub water and brought a few quick splashes to her face, washing away the offending suds. Jareth was still chuckling and slightly damp when she finished clearing the suds from her hair too. Sarah glared at him.

There was, however, a noticeable decrease in the stench. In fact, she could barely smell it at all, though a significant part of her body was still submerged in the water.

Jareth pushed a strand of hair out of his face with the back of one hand. "Time for the back now, Precious. Face the other way." He indicated with a twist of his finger.

Sarah stuck out her tongue, but she turned in the tub as he asked. It was just like him to be unbearably sensual one minute, then unbearably irritating the next. He was impossible.

Shoulders hunched forward, Sarah waited as he lathered up again. His hands moved to her shoulders, fingers curling over them. "You are far too tense. This is unacceptable. The spell will hardly be able to soak into your skin when you are in this state." She could hear the frown in his voice. "Relax, Sarah." He massaged her shoulders lightly.

She tentatively lowered her shoulders and straightened up a little, exposing more of her back to him above the concealing foam. She heard him hum in approval behind her and felt the warm tingling pressure of the magic spread further down her skin.

"So, I heard that you were making some inquiries about me."

"What! Who said anything of the sort?"

"A certain inhabitor of the Junk Yard may have cornered me at one point and let me know that a certain young lady Champion was asking some very interested questions of a personal nature concerning yours truly."

Sarah groaned. The Junk Lady! She should have known that she would gossip about it to everyone—apparently she was on par with middle school girls in that respect. That she should blow it out of proportion though...

"That old witch is constantly making up rumors," Sarah huffed defensively.

"That's what I thought, too, but then that fox knight of yours said you were asking about me too." She could practically hear the smirk in his voice. _Sir Didymus! I am going to need to have a stern conversation with him about what should and should not be repeated to certain royalties._

It was not that it was even anything personal, really—just normal things that anyone would be curious about: How long had he ruled the Labyrinth? Did he always change outfits multiple times over the course of a few hours? What was with the gloves? Did his eyebrows always look like that? What _was_ he? What kind of powers did he have, exactly?

To her disappointment no one had been able to give her a definite answer to any of her questions. It seemed that the King was as much an enigma to his subjects as he was to her, though to be fair they did not have much interest in such details. They seemed to take it for granted that he had always been there.

"Are you going to tell me that he was mistaken, too?" His hands moved under the water further down her back, fingers fanning out to the sides. Yes, there definitely was a tingling sensation where his hands slid in slow circles over her skin. Sarah worried that her face would be permanently red.

She squirmed beneath his hands. "Well, I—I mean, it's only natural that, if I'm going to be spending time in the Labyrinth, that I would want to know what I could about its evil prat of a King, isn't it?"

"Hm, I suppose." Sarah gulped as she felt the hot breath of his words in her ear. She was feeling pretty warm herself, especially when his hands moved over her sides and up her belly, wrists brushing at the undersides of her breasts. She heard him take a sharp breath. "You are so _soft,"_ he growled. Heat flowed from his hands directly down, down, to pool low in her belly. It felt...she had not felt this aroused since... since _ever_, really.

Then Sarah noticed the light, blazing green under the water from where his hands were on her. _Damn magic!_ She frantically tugged his hands off while twisting around, desperately trying to ignore the hormones pumping through her blood. "Get off me, Jareth! You promised!"

Jareth took a breath and staggered up and away from the stool. As he turned she saw that his hands were not only dripping water, but dripping _light_, emanating from his palms. He leaned against the stone wall of the bathroom, head hanging as he took deep breaths, palms flat against the wall above him.

"What the hell was _that!_?_" _Sarah thundered from the tub, watching him. The light seemed to be flowing out of his hands to be swiftly absorbed by the stone wall.

Jareth bit out a word under his breath that she did not recognize, though she did recognize the sound of a curse word when she heard it. "It's a perfectly natural reaction for a red-blooded male such as myself to have, I assure you," he said defensively.

"What are you talking about?" She shifted uncomfortably.

Jareth sighed. He dropped his hands to his sides from the wall and faced her. She eyed them suspiciously, but they seemed to have quit their glowing. "It's sort of an unintentional spell that fae males emanate when they are," he paused, "excited by the objects of their desire. It's a sort of infatuation compulsion that passes by touch."

"So you are saying you can't even control it!"

Jareth almost looked apologetic. "Well, to an extent, yes—I mean, I can bleed off the excess magic that I make into the Labyrinth, like I did just now. Or I can try to imagine something wholly distasteful, and the magic will quickly fade away. It's an instinctual response."

"So you would really coerce someone with a trick like that?"

Jareth scowled, but shrugged. "Fae women are notoriously difficult to please, and they usually have very impressive willpower—by which I mean that they are extremely stubborn. It's to ensure the survival of the species!"

"That's barbaric!"

"Ha! They always have the upper hand. There is no need to pine for them."

"Be that as it may, didn't you think that maybe you should tell me about this little detail _before_ I got naked?" She thought she saw a brief flash of light on his palms before he closed his hands in fists.

"Oh? How was I supposed to bring up something like that? 'By the way, you might feel inexplicably extra-attracted to me?' I didn't do this on purpose—it's just part of who I am. It looks like _you_ need to figure out who _you _are some more, little Miss I Am Too Afraid Of My Emotions."

"Well, they're not very well _my_ emotions if they're being tampered with by your... mating drive!"

"Very well. My mating drive and I are going to go wait outside for you and your bog-smelling legs to get properly clothed. Then I will see you off to the Aboveground as a good host should." His voice was cold as he wiped his hands dry on a towel hanging from the wall. Her inner mental counsel woke up. _Wait! No! You are so close to getting rid of this smell once and for all! Just put up with him for another ten minutes! If he gets too handsy just smack him...or not..._

"Jareth." Her voice sounded small to her own ears. Jareth froze with one hand at the door. Sarah sighed. "Can you just finish it and get it over with?" He turned to look at her, eyes inscrutable. He crossed his arms over his chest. She hesitated.

"What, suddenly you trust me?"

"Well, my will is as strong as yours, isn't it? In case you slip a little, you know," she answered cheekily.

Jareth huffed. "Must you bring _that_ up again? Very well." He sat back down on his stool and picked up the greatly diminished bar of soap in his hands. "Give me your leg."

Sarah scooted back against the wall of the tub and leaned back, raising one of her legs above the suds for Jareth to catch in his hands. She was glad that she had shaved just this morning. He didn't meet her eyes as he worked the soap over her foot. She pulled back abruptly. "Ah! Tickles." He smiled a little, then caught it again.

"Really? I'm going to have remember that one for later." A small smirk had found its way to his lips, but he was more careful this time, moving up to her ankle quickly.

"So, while I am still making revelations, I suppose I should confess that I've been keeping tabs on you too, through your ridiculous companions."

Sarah's heart beat a little louder in her ears as his hands moved away to resoap again. She tried to keep her voice nonchalant. "Oh?"

His hands moved above her knee. She watched his face carefully, but he did not betray any emotion. All she felt was the familiar warm tingling concentrated on her immediate flesh. "I need to thank you, actually, for what you did last month."

Sarah wrinkled her nose in thought. "You mean when I spent that one weekend helping Hoggle with the vines? They were kind of a bitch, I guess." They had worked together all of Saturday and most of Sunday morning attacking a green web of viciously thorny vines that clambered over an outer section of the Labyrinth. Together the dwarf and his faithful Champion managed to clear the vines from the wall, dig out the roots, and burn the untractably vile plants in a smoky heap.

"If you hadn't helped, the dwarf wouldn't have been able to get rid of them on his own, not at the rate that they were spreading." He stroked under the water up till her hip, then pulled his hand away, dropping her leg back under the bath and gesturing for her other one. Sarah let out the breath she had been holding. She was disgusted with herself that she was half-hoping he _would_ lose control a little again.

Sarah shrugged, though, feigning indifference. "So, what's the big deal? Why even order Hoggle to clear it anyways? Most of the outer walls are covered in vines, anyways."

Jareth paused, holding her left ankle. Sarah looked at him and met his unusually serious gaze. "Times are changing in the Underground. That particular speices of vine has recently been sighted in other kingdoms, infesting and feeding on the magics of the land. Entire forests have been pulled down by the spread of the vine. I could not allow such a thing to happen to the Labyrinth."

"So why couldn't you just fight it yourself instead of sending Hoggle to do your dirty work?"

"Believe me, I would have, but the vine is very resilient to magic. Furthermore, it has a weakening effect on magical creatures or persons. But, if Hogbrain hadn't been able to manage by himself, then I would have had to take up the clippers and deal with the consequences of close contact."

"Dang—if only I had known—I could have saved a cutting to keep you in line," Sarah joked. She liked the feeling of his gratitude to her. The sore muscles, scrapes, and splinters she had accrued over that weekend seemed much more worthwhile now.

"Ha ha." His hand squeezed her left thigh. "Your leg muscles are amazingly well defined," he told her appreciatively.

"Um, thanks. That's what happens when you spend all of your free time running around your Labyrinth, usually carrying heavy objects."

"I suppose so. Well, that was the last of the soap. And my last bar too. I guess you're finished." He let go of her leg. And not a moment too soon—the bubbles were starting to thin out and he was catching a few glimpes of her body under the water. He stood and dried his hands off on the towel again, then bent to pick up his disgarded gloves.

"The last bar? Oh dear, poor Pooge!"

"Poor who? Oh, right, the smelly goblin. Don't worry, I have the Junk Lady working on another batch right now. She had to wait for a while until she could get her hands on a critical ingredient for the soap."

Sarah froze. Slowly she said, "That wouldn't happen to be orange nirnroot, would it?" A vein throbbed at her temple.

Jareth turned to look at her with a mischievous expression on his face. "Perhaps."

"ARGHHHHHH!"

_Fin._

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**And that's all, folks. I am planning a sequel, but I may work on Labyrinth Laboratories first, since I consider that fic my baby. Today I got inspiration for a possible way I want the second chapter to go for that one. Thank you so much for your feedback!**


	10. Chapter 10

**I lied. This is the real last chapter.**

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Sarah was still sputtering to herself at the imbecilic irony of the whole situation as Jareth exited the bathroom. Her thoughts quickly veered however back into the bewilderment just before he had left. '_That was the last of the soap'? 'I guess you're finished'?_ Did he honestly leave off the encounter in such a nonchalant manner? What had happened to 'the chance to see the Labyrinth's Champion naked'? Sarah spared another glance at the door to make sure that it was firmly shut before standing up in the giant tub, grabbing onto the edges for support. She gently wrung the water from the body of her hair.

Sarah stepped out, feet sinking into a thick bath mat. She grabbed the lone, fluffy towel neatly folded on the rack above the sink and proceeded to dry off with it.

_You'd think that a 'red-blooded male' would want to drag things on more instead of leaving so abruptly, give himself a better opportunity to check out the goods. _Sarah paused in the act of toweling off her hair to regard said 'goods' in the half-length bathroom mirror. She turned to the side and nodded to herself. Realizing what she was doing she sneered at her reflection.

What was disturbing to Sarah was the fact that _she_ was disturbed by his disregard for her lack of modesty. Confound the man, she was supposed to be happy that he had not tried to pull any tricks on her in the end, not be left with this feeling of bewilderment and lacking fulfillment. She hugged the towel around herself and sighed.

Oh well, might as well get dressed again and head back home. _Pity I only have dirty clothes to change into._ She turned towards the corner of the room where she had stowed the folded bundle, only to find it mysteriously lacking. Further confused she looked in the other corner—still nothing.

Sarah adjusted the towel around herself, holding it in place with one hand at her chest. Her eyes widened then narrowed in consideration. _Surely he wouldn't…? He would. He definitely would._

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Jareth lounged back on the edge of the bed, watching the bathroom door with expectation. He was rewarded when it was wrenched open violently and a furious, dark haired woman clad only in a short towel stormed out. Jareth whistled softly at the sight of her long, shapely legs, naked up until almost the tops of her thighs. Now _this _was more like it.

"WHERE THE HELL DO YOU GET OFF STEALING MY CLOTHES?"

Jareth smiled politely and gestured to the bed. "This seems to be as good a place as any."

Sarah felt a vein thudding in her temple and brandished a pointed index finger at him, the other hand still protectively clutching the towel to her chest. "You are going to give me my clothes back right now, before I do something that you seriously regret."

Jareth raised his eyebrows. "They weren't even particularly nice clothes. I could conjure something much better."

"I don't want any of your _conjurations_!"

"Really? I happened to have conjured that towel actually. I could dispel it, if you insi—" He raised a (gloved) hand in preparation.

"No!" Sarah cried, clinging more tightly to the towel as if he would wrest it from her. "Don't you dare! And what is this all about, anyways? I thought that you made a promise to not pull any tricks!"

"For the duration of the bath, Precious. And now the bath is over, and I aim to collect on my due for services rendered."

"You wouldn't." God, he loved the fire in her green eyes.

He got to his feet. "I'll give you a head start of thirteen seconds. One. Two—" He grinned at her widening eyes, her squeak of surprise before she turned and darted for the door, sprinting away into his castle on bare feet.

"Three. Four. Ten. Twelve. Thirteen." He grinned a feral grin, then took off through the doorway after her into the twisting corridors of the castle. _Now THIS is what being Goblin King is all about._

**_Fin. (For realz this time)_**


End file.
